Broken
by Revhead
Summary: Sam went out to give Dean and Cas some alone time. When he comes back Cas is gone and Dean is broken in more ways than one. In trying to work out what happened, Sam discovers a horrible truth about Dean's past. /Lovingbrother!Sam, PTSD!Dean. Newly established Destiel, warnings for mention of child prostitution.


**Broken**

Sam knocked cautiously on the door of the motel room. He had been out for two hours, running around town doing various errands in an attempt to keep busy long enough to give Dean and Cas some quality alone time. He figured he owed them.

They were still in the early stages of their relationship - only two weeks had passed since they had transitioned from being best friends with underlying but unacknowledged romantic tension between them into something more. Dean had nearly died during a hunt and Cas, after dragging Dean back from the brink with an intense flash of healing Grace, had crushed their lips together in a fierce kiss that was at once a demand for Dean to never scare him like that again and a declaration that Cas felt more for Dean than he had let on. Dean, on his part, responded like a drowning man coming up for air.

Sam still regretted that he had coughed loudly and deliberately, causing them to spring apart and blush deep red with embarrassment. It had been uncomfortable to watch such an open display of affection, but they had been soul mates passionately discovering each other for the first time and Sam's interruption had turned them into awkward stammering teens who didn't know how to act around each other. The two weeks that followed had been filled with uncertain smiles, hesitant touches and startled retreats as Dean and Cas struggled to navigate this next step in their relationship.

Sam hoped that giving them some space would allow them to get over the awkward stage, heat things up a bit and then cool off before he got back. The last thing he wanted to do was walk in on them doing - stuff - because he _so_ did not need to be scarred for life like that.

It was getting dark out, though, and if Sam was going to have to get his own motel room he wanted to know sooner rather than later. Besides, all of his gear was in that room and he at least needed his laptop.

"Dean? Is it safe to come in?"

He didn't receive a reply and almost took that as his cue to retreat until he realized there was no sound coming from the room at all.

He frowned and knocked again, before slowly easing the door open.

"Dean...?"

The room was still and silent. Sam's bed was as he had left it, but Dean's bedcovers were slightly mussed. He didn't see Cas or Dean anywhere...no, wait. There in the corner. A small, huddled shape, shaking and shivering in the shadows.

"Cas?"

Walking closer, Sam realized it wasn't the angel. It was Dean. His brother was curled into a ball, head down, bare arms hugging his knees. He hadn't looked up when Sam entered the room and he didn't react when Sam knelt down beside him either.

"Dean?" Sam asked gently. "Hey, you okay? What happened? Where's Cas?"

Dean flinched and curled tighter.

"No, hey, it's just me. It's Sam. C'mon man, talk to me."

Dean wasn't responding so Sam placed a hand on his shoulder.

Dean jerked back, head snapping up and hands lashing out to shove Sam away as he yelped "Don't touch me!"

"Whoa, easy!"

Wide green eyes stared at him like he was a stranger and there was a wordless fear in their depths.

Sam had only ever seen his brother like this once before and it was scaring him even more now than it had back then. "Dean, please. It's okay, I'm here, you're safe. It's Sam. Don't you know your Sammy?"

Dean blinked. "Sammy?" he whispered.

Sam exhaled a sigh of relief. "Yeah. Yeah, Dean, it's me. I've got you."

Dean took a shuddering breath, clearly trying to bring himself back under control. But when Sam reached for him again, Dean gave up all presence and collapsed willingly into Sam's outstretched arms. He buried his face into Sam's neck and seized a fistful of his shirt as though he needed it to stay grounded, trembling violently.

Sam held onto his brother, utterly helpless. He had no idea what had brought this on and he didn't know how to fix it.

The last time this had happened was when they were kids. Sam must have been ten years old or so when he had woken in the middle of the night to find his brother shaking and crying in a ball in the corner of their motel room. Dean was in his going out clothes, not the PJs he had been wearing when he decided to turn in early, and they were crumpled and twisted oddly around his form. Dean was a mess, terrified and confused and defensive until Sam had wrapped his arms around him, and then Dean fell apart completely. Dean was jittery for weeks afterward, but when Dad came home he pulled himself together and acted like nothing had ever been wrong. Sam never did find out what had happened.

But whatever it was, something similar had happened now. Sam was not going to let it go this time.

It was half an hour before Dean began to settle and another 10 minutes until he pulled away. He refused to meet Sam's eyes, muttering what might have been a 'thanks' while staring fixedly at his hands.

"What happened, Dean? And where is Cas?"

Dean shook his head wordlessly.

"Dean, neither one of us is moving until we talk about this." Sam meant it. His legs were aching from kneeling so long but he wasn't going to let Dean bury this with all the other crap he carried.

"I can't."

Sam just folded his arms and waited.

Dean risked a glance up at him and must have seen the resolve in his expression because, although his gaze skittered away again, he reluctantly spoke.

"Cas left."

Vanishing without warning or explanation was kind of the angel's signature move. "He does that."

"No. He left, and he isn't coming back. He's gone, Sam."

Sam struggled to put the pieces together. "Did you guys have a fight or something?" Neither of them had much experience with being in a serious relationship. A couple's first real fight always did feel like the end of everything, but if they worked through the issue together they would come out the other side stronger for it.

"Or something."

Sam thought about Dean's body language, the defensive, guarding behaviours he was exhibiting, and a terrible thought occurred to him. "Did Cas hurt you?"

"No!"

"Dean-"

"No, Sam. Cas didn't - he wouldn't. You know that. _I_ know that. I just…"

"Did you hurt him?"

Distress flashed in Dean's eyes. "I didn't mean- I pushed him. Off. Away. I didn't hurt - he was okay, but then I screamed at him and - of course he left. After I - he's never going to come back." Dean dropped his head into his hands and shook it morosely. "God, I feel so stupid."

Sam's eyes tracked from the crumpled bed sheets to Dean's bare torso. "You pushed him off? Dean, if he was trying to do something to you that you didn't want, you had every right to-"

"But I did want. I did - I do. I just...couldn't."

"Couldn't as in...?"

Dean flushed. "No. I was there. We both were. It felt good, better than good, man, I've never felt anything like- But then it all went wrong. And it is all my fault."

"This is a big change for you, Dean. The, ah, mechanics are different. You can't expect to be good at it right away, and your first time is bound to be a little awkward and uncomfortable."

"First time," Dean echoed dully. "Yeah. No."

"What?"

"Not my first rodeo, Sam."

"What? You've-"

Dean gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Long time ago."

Sam was surprised by the revelation. Judging by how long it had taken Dean to realize and admit that he was in love with Cas, and the fact that Sam had only ever known him to hook up with chicks, Sam had been sure that Dean had never even considered the possibility that he might not be 100% straight until the moment Cas kissed him.

Of course, it was not uncommon for teenagers to experiment, but Sam couldn't believe that Dean had never told him about it.

It was as though Dean could read his mind. "It's not exactly something I'm proud of, Sam."

"There's no shame in-"

"Don't," Dean said sharply. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Explain it to me, then. I want to understand, Dean."

"Sam…"

"Please, Dean. I can't help you until I know what is going on."

"You couldn't anyway. There's no fixing me."

Sam drew in a slow breath. It was moments like these when Dean's tough exterior dropped away, revealing the brokenness, the hurt and the self-hatred beneath. It pained Sam to see it, but this was also a rare opportunity if he could handle it right.

"Dean, I love you." It was frank, honest, and an admission that the Winchesters rarely voiced aloud. It certainly got Dean's attention; he stared at his brother in shock and it was a mark of how wrecked he was that he didn't protest the chick-flick moment. "You know that, right? You're my brother. No matter how much crap you've been through, no matter what you've done or how broken you think you are, that doesn't change. I'm here for you. You just gotta let me in."

"If I tell you, you'll look at me differently."

"I won't. Dean, you took me back after I got hopped up on demon blood and freed friggin' _Lucifer._ Nothing you say right now is going to push me away, I promise."

Dean still looked uncertain, but there was a resignation in his eyes. "Fine. I've already lost Cas tonight. If I lose you, too, well…it is no less than I deserve." He sucked in a deep breath and braced himself for the retelling. Sam found himself tensing, too, afraid of what Dean might say.

"When we were kids," Dean began, "Dad would go on hunts and leave us in a motel room he had payed up for a couple of weeks. He gave me enough cash to last us until he came back." Dean paused to look at him and Sam nodded. So far this was familiar.

"But sometimes he didn't come home on schedule," Dean continued. "There were times that money got a little tight. I tried to think what Dad would do, you know? I went round to the local bars hoping to play some pool or something to win us some cash, but I was barely 14. No matter how good my fake ID was, one look at me gave the game away. I think I got turned away from 5 different bars in one night and I was going to give up and go home when a man approached me in the alley. He asked me if I wanted to make a quick $20…"

Sam swallowed. He didn't like where this was going, but now that he had started Dean didn't seem able to stop. He wouldn't look at Sam, though. He stared past him, gaze fixed determinedly on the wall. His voice came out flat.

"We needed the money and I was running out of options. So I said yes. He unbuckled his pants and I got down on my knees and I sucked him off."

Sam's stomach lurched. "Dean-"

"When I got home I nearly swallowed a bar of soap trying to wash my mouth out, but we were $20 richer. It got easier after that. I found the seediest bars, wore tight-fitting clothes and, god, even mascara. I raked in the clients. They all wanted a piece of me. Called me 'pretty'."

Sam remembered boys taunting Dean about being 'pretty' in high school. He remembered not being able to understand why Dean didn't beat the crap out of them the way he did with Sam's bullies. His face would darken and his fists would clench but he wouldn't confront them. He always stayed as far away from them as possible.

"We were okay for a while," Dean said. "Dad came back and we moved on. Wasn't long til we were landed in the same situation again, but this time I thought I could do something about it. Except this new town had a shortage of pervy freaks and night after night I had no takers. It got to the point where I didn't have so much as a crust of bread to feed you the next morning, let alone enough cash to continue paying for our motel room. The manager was going to kick us out onto the street if I didn't come up with the money. I was desperate."

Sam almost wanted to cover his ears, not wanting to hear how this story could get any worse. But he had promised Dean he would listen.

"There was this dude. Big guy, gross nose piercing, fetid breath. I doubt he even knew what a toothbrush was. He turned down a blow job saying I couldn't handle him, but he was the first guy who had so much as leered at me so I insisted that I could. He gave me a once-over and started to grin and I swear to god, I have never seen a creepier expression on a man's face but I wasn't about to back down. He said a blow job wasn't worth his time, but he would give me $100 if I…" Dean choked but forced himself to keep going. "If I would bend over for him."

Oh god.

"I was desperate," Dean whispered. "I did what I had to. And he… he wasn't gentle. When he was finished with me he tossed a $50 bill at my head and left me bleeding in the street. I barely made it back to the motel and I don't remember much else about that night…"

But Sam did. And god, the truth was worse than anything he could have imagined.

"I took to stealing after that. Didn't like taking what I hadn't earned and I felt bad robbing little 'Mom and Pop' stores, but I couldn't…I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't face that again."

"Dean…" Sam had no idea what to say. He'd had no idea. All those times he'd winged about wanting to eat a real meal for once, when it had been all Dean could do to put food on the table. All those times he had assumed Dean had snuck out at night to hook up with chicks, when he had been selling himself to support his little brother. Sam couldn't even begin to imagine how traumatic, how degrading, how dangerous it must have been for Dean to make that kind of sacrifice. And he had never said a word.

"I guess I'd hoped I was over it by now," Dean sighed. "It was one night a million years ago. But when Cas started to… to touch me, it all came rushing back and I- I pushed him."

God, the guilt and the shame in his voice, like he had done something wrong. "Dean, after what you went through I'd be surprised if you didn't react that way. It is post-traumatic stress. You had a flashback to a time when you were sexually assaulted and you defended yourself accordingly. No one could blame you for that."

"I wasn't raped, Sam. I consented. I got paid."

"You were _fourteen_!"

"It was my choice. I could have walked away. There ain't nobody to blame for what happened but me."

Oh, Sam could think of plenty of people to blame and John Winchester's name was at the top of the list – leaving his sons in such desperate circumstances was _neglect_ plain and simple – followed by Sam's own name because ignorance was no excuse – the signs were _there_ if he had cared to look close enough – and the rapist who, consent notwithstanding, had used and abused a minor for his own sick pleasure. Sam was also more than willing to rage at the police officers who should have been on patrol, or the bar tenders who should have noticed the child slinking in the alleys out back, or the friggin demon who had murdered their mother, or even God himself.

But this, right here and now, was not about revenge and Sam forced himself to focus on what was important. "You were doing the best you could, Dean. You were looking out for me." Sam was going to have to find a way to live with the crippling guilt over that one because here was another god-awful thing Dean had put himself through because he thought it was his job to take care of his brother no matter the personal cost.

"I was a whore, Sam, don't bother sugar-coating it. No wonder Cas doesn't want me. I'm damaged goods."

"Stop it!" Sam snapped and Dean visibly flinched. Sam struggled to reign in his emotions, not wanting to upset Dean any more than this night had already. "Don't talk about yourself like that. God, Dean, for once could you try to see yourself the way we do? You are _amazing_, Dean. You give and you sacrifice and you _love_ and you never expect anything in return. You have proven over and over again that you would do anything for the people you care about – hell, you go above and beyond for people you have never even _met_. You are a friggin' _hero_ and anyone who would judge you for doing what you thought you had to when you were _fourteen_ is an idiot – yourself included."

"Gee, thanks," Dean muttered.

"I mean it, Dean. You let those men hurt you on so many levels just so that I would have food to eat and a roof over my head. If I wasn't so furious and devastated that you were forced into such an impossible situation I would be thanking you right now."

"You should be disgusted by me."

"No, Dean. _No_. I wish you hadn't had to do what you did, but there is no way in hell that I could hate you for it. I'm _grateful,_ you stupid son of a bitch, but god, please don't ever hurt yourself like that again. You deserve to be safe and love and protected. I swear, Dean, from now on I am going to do everything in my power to be the one looking out for _you_ for a change."

"I'm fine."

Sam didn't point out the obvious – that Dean was traumatised and heartbroken and about as far away from fine as a person could get.

"No, but you will be," Sam promised. He was going to make sure of it.

Dean huffed a mirthless laugh. "That's what I tried to tell myself that night, but I guess not. It's been 20 years, Sam. I'm never going to be okay."

"But you buried it. You never let yourself come to terms with what happened. You need to admit that it was a traumatic experience and forgive yourself for what you did. You need to refuse to let those men rob you of your dignity and self-worth. You need to take back your body and choose to share it only with people you care about, only under your own rules, and only when you are ready."

"It's too late for that. Haven't you been listening? Cas is gone."

"He'll come back. He always does. He loves you too much to stay away. Besides, don't you think he is out there somewhere right now beating himself up, trying to figure out what he did wrong? He didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know that."

"Tell him, not me. Explain what happened with as little or as much detail as you are comfortable to give and tell him you guys need to take things slow. He'll understand, Dean. You'll find a way to work through this. Give yourself time to heal and eventually you will be able to be intimate with Cas without being afraid that he'll do what they did."

"How can you be so sure?"

Sam smiled a little. "Dean, if the combined forces of Heaven and Hell could not keep you two apart, nothing will. Trust me."

"You really think he'll come back?" 

"Only one way to find out."

Dean nodded. Hesitantly, he closed his eyes. "Cas…?"

There was a flutter of wings as Castiel appeared almost instantly.

They stared at each other for a long moment and then both spoke at once. "Dean, I'm sorry-" "Cas, I'm sorry-"

"Skip the apologies," Sam advised. "Neither of you did anything wrong. But you are going to have to talk about this, and I think I should let you do that in private. So I'm going to go. But I am only one call away if you need me, okay?"

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said.

Sam squeezed his shoulder. "It's what I'm here for. We love ya, Dean, don't ever forget that."

Dean's eyes darted to Castiel's face at the word 'love'. He looked uncertain and scared and hopeful all at once.

"Yes, I do," Cas agreed solemnly.

Sam smiled and quietly withdrew, knowing that his brother was in good hands.


End file.
